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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23224486">Happy Little Accidents</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrayolaRainbow/pseuds/CrayolaRainbow'>CrayolaRainbow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Bright Sessions (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Kissing, Cooking, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, accidental i love you, first I love you</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:40:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,014</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23224486</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrayolaRainbow/pseuds/CrayolaRainbow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark accidentally kisses Owen and says I love you on the way out the door.</p><p>They aren't dating.</p><p>Oops.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mark Bryant/Owen Thompson | Agent Green</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Happy Little Accidents</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Alright, I’m gonna head out to the grocery store, we need anything?” Mark hollers as he grabs his jacket from the chair in the living room.</p><p>“Chocolate ice cream and sandwich bread,” Owen says from the couch. He doesn’t look up from the book he’s reading.</p><p>“Right, gotcha.” Mark leans over Owen’s book and pecks him on the lips. “Love ya.”</p><p>“See ya later,” Owen replies.</p><p>Mark slips on his shoes and shuts the front door behind him.</p><p>He stops halfway to the car.</p><p>Did he.</p><p>His hand moves to his mouth unbidden and brushes over his lips. The ghost of pressure still remains.</p><p>Did he just kiss Owen?</p><p>Mark licks his lips nervously.</p><p>And say that he loved him?</p><p>His heart flutters.</p><p>Oh fuck.</p><p>~~~</p><p>The door slams behind Mark and Owen finally looks up from his book.</p><p>Had Mark.</p><p>Owen’s fingers hover over his lips. His book lays forgotten on his chest.</p><p>Had Mark really just kissed him?</p><p>He licks his lips and part of him hopes he can taste Mark on them.</p><p>And said he loves him?</p><p>Owen’s heart soars.</p><p>And Owen just said “See ya?”</p><p>The hope falls in his chest like a stone in a pond and settles there.</p><p>How could he have been so stupid?</p><p>Owen scrambles to his feet and looks out the window, but Mark has already driven away.</p><p>Shit.</p><p>He can’t just call Mark. For one thing, he’s driving right now, and for another, this isn’t really a conversation he wants to have over the phone.</p><p>Shit.</p><p>He goes back to the couch but his brain is still short circuiting and he can’t focus on the page.</p><p>Owen sighs and sets the book on the coffee table. There's nothing else he can do about it right now, except wonder. He was going to finish his chapter before starting on dinner, but it doesn't look like that’s going to happen now.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Mark doesn’t know what to do. He wanders the aisles aimlessly, without looking at his list. How the fuck is he going to recover from this.</p><p>He could lie, say that he didn’t mean it, that it was all a big accident. Better to take the loss, burn that bridge down. There was no way Owen would ever willingly kiss him.</p><p>He had done such a good job of hiding it too. No odd looks from Caleb or Chloe, and not a whisper of an inkling from anyone else. There was no way Owen could have possibly known.</p><p>But not now. The cat was out of the bag and it would never go back in.</p><p>Mark stares at the apples. Fuck. What the fuck is he going to do. He can’t just leave. He left his passport at the house, for one.</p><p>“Fuck,” Mark says to himself.</p><p>“<em>Sir</em>.” The woman standing next to him sounds scandalized. She huffs and leaves to go inspect the grapes instead.</p><p>“What the fuck are you doing in Boston?” Mark wonders as she leaves.</p><p>He’s sufficiently snapped out of it though. He glances down at his list and then back to his empty cart. “Fuck.”</p><p>~~~</p><p>Mark turns off the car in the driveway and takes a deep breath.</p><p>“Right. You’re going to go in, hope to fuck that Owen doesn’t notice, and put away the groceries as fast as possible before he says anything,” he whispers to himself.</p><p>Mark slinks inside like a cat. His shoulders are hunched and he moves as quietly as possible. He quietly toes his shoes off and pads through the house in his socked feet. He glances towards the living room as he passes it, and bites his lip.</p><p>No Owen. Good.</p><p>Mark slips around the corner and into the kitchen.</p><p>“Oh, hello Mark!” Owen says brightly.</p><p>“Fuck.” Mark barely manages to keep a hold of the bags. Good, because he had just bought eggs.</p><p>Owen is wearing his “Kiss the cook” apron, and isn’t that the worst irony. Fucking hell, he’s cooking dinner, like nothing happened. Like Mark hadn’t just spilled his two biggest secrets to Owen.</p><p>“Mark, about earlier—”</p><p>“Fuck, man, I didn’t mean. I didn’t plan—” Mark doesn’t know what to say. He’s fumbling all over himself like a fucking idiot. He hadn’t gotten that far in his planning, he didn’t want to, he had hoped, he didn’t think he’d see Owen right away. “Oh god, I’m so fucking sor—”</p><p>Owen cuts him off. “Don’t,” he says, and then he’s stepping forward, and tilting Mark’s face up, and kissing him.</p><p>Mark’s eyes are open wide in panic. He’s too startled to close them. He doesn't know what to do with his hands, he’s still holding the fucking bags.</p><p>Fuck. Owen is a <em>really</em> good kisser, and Mark is giving him… nothing in return.</p><p>Owen pulls away after a couple seconds. His hands fly off of Mark’s face and he starts running his hands through his red hair nervously.</p><p>“Oh god, did I completely misread this,” he says and takes a step back.</p><p>“Fuck, no, god, shit, you just surprised me, that’s all.” Mark finally puts down the bags. ”I had my hands full.”</p><p>Owen smiles. “Right.”</p><p>“Do you want to try this again?” Mark bites his lip.</p><p>“Yes, Mark, I think I would.”</p><p>They step forward and meet in the middle. Mark closes his eyes and wraps his arms around the other man’s neck as Owen gently tilts his head up.</p><p>Owen is a really <em>really</em> good kisser. Even better with Mark actually <em>responding</em> to him. Mark can’t help but melt against him as Owen runs his long fingers through Mark’s hair. Mark grabs a fistful of Owen’s hair and pushes him up against the counter.</p><p>The timer beeps.</p><p>“Fuck!” Owen pulls away, his hair wild. “I forgot about dinner!”</p><p>“Whatcha making?”</p><p>“Spaghetti with meatballs. Do you want to set the table and we can talk about this,” Owen gestures between the two of them, “while we eat?”</p><p>“That sounds perfect.” Mark pecks Owen on the cheek.</p><p>“Oh, and Mark?”</p><p>Mark pauses as he opens the dish cupboard. “Yeah?”</p><p>“I love you too.”</p>
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